


Incredible

by nandonman



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II
Genre: Aggressive Hawke has a soft spot for Merrill, Almost a Merrill character study oops, F/F, Merrill is anxious and soft, Merrill is cold and Hawke is naturally warm, My aggressive Hawke turns into purple Hawke in sexy times ig, Scissoring, Smut, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Varric and Isabela cameo, a hand stamp lmao, oh god it's so sickeningly sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-12
Updated: 2020-03-12
Packaged: 2021-02-28 18:48:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,818
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23111983
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nandonman/pseuds/nandonman
Summary: "I'm not like you, and I wish that I were. You're beautiful, and clever, and you never make any mistakes and I-" Merrill paused for breath, struggling to find the words. ". . . I don't deserve you."--In which Merrill opens up to Marian Hawke after a game of Wicked Grace with the crew.
Relationships: Female Hawke/Merrill, Marian Hawke/Merrill
Comments: 2
Kudos: 19





	Incredible

**Author's Note:**

> Did somebody say vanilla?

"Don't even think about it."

Isabela raised an eyebrow at Marian Hawke, who in turn was fitting her with a narrowed glare. That was a first. Not the glare--no, certainly not--but that someone had caught her in her act. With a sly smile, Isabela reluctantly released the second card she had snagged back onto the table.

"Now why do you have to go and ruin my fun like that?"

Hawke's gaze swept back to the hand in front of her and shrugged, not without revealing the tiniest hint of a smirk playing on her lips.

"Because if Varric's out, then I know we're playing big."

Beside them, Varric raised his hands defensively with a sly smile. "What kind of fool do you take me for, Hawke? I know when to bite and when to sit one out. I'm more curious as to how this particular game is going to end."

It was no secret what Varric was referring to as his eyes shifted subtly to the Dalish woman at the opposite end of the table. Merrill was biting down on her lip with a glint to her eyes and a repressed smile threatening to move past her teeth. The conspicuousness of it all made it unclear if she was bluffing or just really very pleased with her fortune that night. Hawke had tried to glimpse at Isabela's reactions to Merrill's moves, but that woman was a mirror when it came to gambling. She showed so little of her own emotion that looking at her, one would simply start to fear for their own guise.

A comfortable silence took them as the group approached the close of their game. The candle Hawke had placed before her guests arrived waxed low, as did the energy in the room, and all became still save for the tapping of coins and scuffling of cards. At some point, the glittering-eyed elf seemed to glance up at a happy thought, just as Marian had gotten comfortable watching her eyelashes flutter closed and quickly snap awake. For a moment, their eyes met, and Marian found herself smiling like some love-struck fool. Merrill tried to return the favor, but managed to cough in embarrassment and look away instead. Hawke quickly did the same.

It was only a few minutes later that Hawke threw down her cards in frustration and Isabela's eyebrows raised at least an inch in shock.

"Well I'll be damned. I never knew you had it in you, Daisy."

Merrill smiled demurely and met Varric's gaze with the smallest bit of pride. "I'm sure it was just luck."

"Nuh-uh. Nobody wins against me with luck, kitten. Although this one--" Isabela smirked at Hawke. "Well, that's besides the point. Point is--well done." She smiled at Merrill as she leaned back against her wooden chair at the side of the table and stretched.

Hawke shot her a dangerous glare, but Isabela only winked in return. Anyone who got to know her knew Marian was hardly ever serious about that overbearing bite of hers. And Isabela oh so loved to tease out of it what she could.

Hawke rolled her eyes and instead turned to face Merrill, who had already begun to stand.

"Thank you for this, Hawke," she smiled.

Marian nodded in return as Isabela and Varric joined Merrill to leave.

"Yeah. Next time though, don't deal me such a shitty deck, will you?" Varric asked as he slung Bianca across his back.

"I can't make any promises."

"A shame," Isabela cut in, already sauntering her way towards them.

"I wish I could say I regret losing all my change, but-" her eyes softened. "I do enjoy nights like these. Take care, Hawke."

Marian smiled in return, and within only a few more moments, the Rivani and the clever dwarf were walking together into the evening Hightown breeze.

Taking a breath, Hawke turned to say goodbye to her last guest when she abruptly stopped. A few feet away, Merrill stood leaning slightly against the playing table with a contemplative look. Maybe it was that she was always on edge, but Marian could immediately detect a shift in the air. Something wasn't right.

"Merrill," she began, deciding to close the outside door for now. "Thanks for coming tonight."

Her voice came out surprisingly gentle, but then again, that's just how things were around Merrill. Always soft. Thoughtful. So unlike the brashness she was used to wielding day to day.

Merrill shifted footing and met Hawke's gaze after a brief moment of hesitation. Her eyes shone in the candlelight, as they always seemed to do, and Marian found herself walking closer to the elf.

"Marian. I-of course. It was my pleasure," she joked, and she glanced down at the neat pile of sovereigns beside her. But her gaze seemed far away even so, and Marian furrowed her brows.

"Is something bothering you?"

At this, Merrill stood straight. "No. I mean, well--yes." She sighed.

Marian took on that heroic posture of hers and sat in the closest chair, leaning forward slightly. "Well, then. What's on your mind?"

Merrill seemed to hesitate before turning to face her. "It's nothing, really. I was just hoping for your opinion on something is all."

Marian nodded for her to continue, and Merrill joined her at the table, gaze glued to her hands.

". . . Sometimes i wonder if what I'm doing . . . if it's just an illusion. With Pol, and the Keeper, and everyone. . . Well, it's just hard to think that what you're doing is right-when everyone you ever knew-the only ones who should be able to understand, turn against you. And I know it's not everyone." She glanced up at Marian, a pool of emotions behind her eyes. "I thank you for that, Hawke. It means more to me than you know."

Marian didn't know what to say. But it wasn't long before Merrill continued.

"And that is why I mean no offense when I say that . . . The Clan was supposed to understand. Among them, at least Marethari. It is a Keeper's job to remember. . ." She shut her eyes, and Marian began to worry they might be holding back tears. "To remember, and to find. To recover what was lost, if we can. How could we ignore the opportunity? Even if it is dangerous, it was the taint that hurt Mahariel, not the mirror. And Tamlen--" Her eyes opened once again, and she seemed to think better of her words. "Tamlen is gone. That we cannot change. But with no body, no clue as to where he went . . . It makes me wonder."

"Do you think the mirror might have taken him?"

"I don't know. But it can't be right to leave that knowledge with the rest of what we lost." Her tone dropped then, low and with the subtlest hint of long felt sorrows. "For it to fade away, along with everything else. Never to be reclaimed."

There was a pause as Marian thought on what she had said. Something about the pain behind Merrill's voice, the depth to it all . . . She really did care for the knowledge she sought. It wasn't just a duty, a fact of honor or of worth. It was to Merrill as survival was to her. Perhaps even like Bethany's fascination with their family's ties. Or--no, more than that.

Whatever it was, Marian knew one thing for certain: it was incredible.

"Merrill," she began. She felt the urge to reach out and take her hands in her own. But that could wait, For now, she fixed her with a reassuring smile.

"You're incredible."

Merrill looked taken aback by the compliment, obviously not expecting that reply.

"Hawke . . ."

Hawke shook her head. "Don't. Just call me Marian, if you will. It sounds strange, coming from you."

"From me?" Merrill furrowed her brows. "What do you mean?"

Marian smirked. This was much better than that sad look of hers from before.

"Well, we are friends, aren't we? And then again, maybe . . ."

Merrill stared at her in confusion before jumping slightly in surprise. "Oh! You don't mean--but you do, don't you?"

There it was again. That far away look of hers.

"I do." A pause.

"And by the way, Merrill, no. You're not wrong. Give yourself more credit, will you? You may be the only one in your clan in your endeavor, but you're not alone. You have me. And I'd venture to say that not every Dalish clan is so against the dangers of knowledge, wouldn't you?"

Merrill hesitated. "I--. . . No. I suppose you're right." She smiled softly. "Marian."

Marian mirrored the gaze and decided that now would be a very good time for that hand holding idea from earlier.

Merrill blushed, a gentle pink rising from her cheeks as Hawke placed her hand on Merrill's, then intertwined their fingers.

"I am with you, Merrill," Marian said, voice smooth yet firm as oak. "Always."

The look of pure bliss Marian received was enough to surprise her when Merrill's hand drew away.

"I'm not like you, Marian." She met her eyes, her own sparkling and flickering with the light from around them in a way both endearing and heartbreaking all at once. "And I wish that I were. You're beautiful, and clever, and you never make any mistakes, and I--" She paused, searching for the right words. "I don't deserve you."

Marian felt anger rise in her chest. It wasn't quite what she felt when yelling a battle cry or threatening the self-absorbed merchant down the street. Rather, it was more quiet, and stemmed from some reservoir of justice. It felt wrong to hear. And she knew it was.

"No," she said blatantly.

"No?" Merrill asked, very clearly confused.

"You do deserve me, Merrill. You deserve all of me, and more." She slid off her chair and knelt on the floor before the flustered elf, hands now cupping Merrill's in her own.

"Unfortunately, I can only give you so much. But whatever is mine to give . . ." She reached up and touched the markings lining Merrill's thin cheeks. "Is yours."

Merrill swallowed, and for a moment, their eyes met. Words unspoken still passed, and soon, they were both on their feet, the distance between them reduced to nothing more than the space of silk and wool.

Merrill leaned forward for a kiss, but Marian leaned away, eyes still scanning the elegant features of the Dalish woman's face.

"Not yet," she whispered.

Merrill blushed furiously at the attention, but Marian only cupped her cheek once more, her thumb feeling the line where markings ended and hair began. She glanced into her eyes, her own softening in response to the still glimmering shine of the elf's wide gaze.

"Marian," Merrill breathed.

And that was all it took before Hawke's lips were chasing after Merrill's. They met, and in a rush of warmth and a spark of the chest, Marian wrapped her arms around Merrill's waist. Merrill responded, holding onto her arms gently as they kissed. Her hands were cold.

As for Merrill-there was something about how lush Marian's lips were in comparison to her own, thin and not as wide. It was almost an embrace in itself.

Soon, Merrill drew from the confidence she had mustered so far to swipe her tongue against Marian's lower lip, hands tightening on her arms. Marian was quick to oblige, stepping back and leading Merrill with her against the playing table as their lips parted.

Marian stopped only when she stumbled against the wood, and even then, she pulled Merrill closer still. Merrill found herself holding onto Hawke's strong waist for support as she leaned forward, legs bending around Marian's left thigh. Eventually, she moved her hands to behind Hawke's neck and gently pulled, pulling their faces even closer. Marian could feel Merrill's eyelashes batting against her cheek, and if the kiss wasn't already enough, Merrill had brought herself even tighter against Hawke's thigh, practically grinding against her, though only it seemed for better access to her lips.

Cautiously, Marian let herself raise her leg slightly, and Merrill gasped as she was lifted up. Right. She didn't mind, then.  
In fact, Merrill reciprocated by huffing softly against Marian's cheek and softly grinding against her. Hawke tensed her leg up in return, and Merrill mumbled something incoherent into their kiss.

"You know, love," Hawke spoke softly as she pulled away. "I could do much more than that with my hand."

Merrill shuddered, and Hawke couldn't help but lean forward and bite her neck--not exactly gently, but nowhere near as rough as she could have. Merrill caught her breath just for a moment, but it was enough of a giveaway on top of everything else.

"Been a while, has it?" Marian teased as she began to lead Merrill back to her room.

"I-" Merrill bit her lip. "I've only ever . . . Once before, but that was a very long time ago."

She seemed wistful at the thought, and Hawke felt she had no right to interfere with whatever memory she may had recalled. And so alternatively, she opted to open her bedroom door and busy herself by leaving soft, wet kisses against Merrill's throat. The door shut behind them with a metallic 'clink,' and Merrill turned her head towards Hawke's, catching her lips in another kiss.

Before long, they pulled apart once more, this time Merrill's doing. The graceful elf took her warrior's hand in her own and began to retreat to the bed, heart pounding and yet so soothed all the same. Marian followed her lead and smiled when Merrill sat back on the mattress and pulled her lover on top. Hawke lowered herself until her elbows met the sheets, and then she began to let herself explore.

Always pausing in case Merrill didn't approve, Marian made her way from Merrill's lips down to her scarf, which was hastily removed. Merrill blushed and gazed up at Hawke as she wiggled her fingers with a smirk. Merrill scoffed and chuckled to herself as she let Marian reach behind her and undo her tunic. Reading the insecure look forming on Merrill's face, Marian sat up and pushed down her robe before leaning back down and kissing Merrill again.

Merrill couldn't help it that her eyes lingered. After all, she'd never been this intimate with a human before. She hadn't realized how . . . Well, how large--or how round . . .

But then her eyes were once more closed as Marian's tongue made hasty work of exploring Merrill's parted lips. Merrill shivered as her tunic was removed and thrown Creators knew where. But she didn't have much time to think on it. Not when Marian's hands had begun to roam again.

Merrill's eyes widened when she felt a shiver go down Marian's body.

"Maker . . . Just what have you been hiding down here?"

Merrill blushed as she felt Marian's hands travel down to her chest. Hawke blinked in wonder at the feeling of cold chain mail against her palm, and in a curious gesture, she softly cupped Merrill's breast in her hand and squeezed.

Merrill gasped, eyes shutting tightly as she willed her body to relax.

"Marian . . ."

"Yes, love?" she teased, both hands now turning to the sides of her waist and running down to her hips.

"T-The chain mail . . . It's . . ."

"Oh. Right."

Marian quickly removed the rest of her armor before sitting up, straddling the thin elf below her, and gazing in wonder.

"Beautiful," she whispered.

Merrill swallowed and sat up to meet Hawke, her forehead just barely bumping against hers as she did so.

"Hawke."

"That's a serious tone of voice."

"I think I love you."

A pause.

"Oh. No, I shouldn't have said that. I'm so sorry, Hawke. I really shouldn't have said that!"

Merrill shut her eyes tightly, already feeling the shame and regret boiling to the surface of her skin, making its way to her cheeks, and then she was blushing, but at least not--and there they were, like a breath of rain, tears that built--

"I love you, Merrill."

Oh.

Hawke smiled. "What else did you think I'd say?"

But Merrill wasn't given a chance to respond before Hawke's lips were on hers once more, this time accompanied by a roaming hand.

Merrill's back arched as she felt strong fingers press down her waist and move toward the front of her stomach, lower and lower until finding the corner where her thigh met the line of her shorts. And there she pressed, rubbing circles into the teasing spot while kissing her lover passionately.

Merrill couldn't help it when she turned, and she didn't regret it when Marian's fingers grazed across the bottom of her shorts.

"Mmh," Marian smiled against her lips, tongue darting out to softly lick where she'd bitten just beneath her lower lip.

"No more playing around. Got it."

Merrill smiled despite herself and muttered "no."

Marian smirked and slipped her hand underneath the soft material keeping Merrill from her. She wasn't surprised to feel how wet the elf had gotten, and neither was she disappointed.

She started with one finger, two, grazing up and down, in and out, teasing. Merrill shivered and arched beneath her, and Marian lifted her each time with her other arm. At some point, Marian finally disposed of the material and opted instead for her palm, covering Merrill and massaging her slowly, firmly.

Merrill gasped beneath her and did her best to hold back a plea.

It didn't work.

"Please, Marian," she breathed, chest rising and falling quicker than she remembered.

Marian smiled and let one knuckle loose to dig into her as her other fingers danced around her clit.

"Yes, love? What is it?"

Merrill blushed furiously and groaned at the stimulation.

"I-If you could . . . Oh, that . . . That! There. Oh Gods, Marian, there . . ."

Hawke's gaze flickered down to her hand before moving back to Merrill's face.

"If you do one thing for me," she breathed, starting to feel husky in her words.

"What is it?"

Marian withdrew her hand and got back to her knees, all the while keeping her gaze focused on Merrill's beautiful shining eyes.

"If you're comfortable," Hawke began, one finger trailing down Merrill's thigh.

"Spread for me, will you?"

Merrill nodded shyly and did as asked, feeling herself grow hot as she left herself completely revealed.

Marian did her no mercy either. Without moving an inch, her eyes raked over her lover. Starting from the sparkle in her eyes and moving down to her cute little purple toes. Merrill would have thought she'd be uncomfortable, but she felt invigorated. A strange sense of confidence struck her as Marian's eyes once again became glued to her prize.

'Yours.'

And then Marian was shedding the rest of her robe and leaning down to lick a stripe up Merrill, returning only to find that hole of hers and do as promised.

It didn't take long before Merrill was a moaning mess, and Marian moved to allow herself the friction she'd craved for so long. With a groan, Marian removed her own smalls and moved forward just before her, offering her hands. Merrill took them like an elegant lady of the Orlesian court, as opposed to someone who'd just spilled every curse she never thought she knew while being fucked senseless by her less-than-merciful lover.

Marian pulled her up to meet her gaze, a raw smile plastered across her face.

"Alright, love. Have you ever scissored before?"

Merrill couldn't help the sly smile that made its way onto her lips. "No, actually."

"Well," Marian began, sliding closer to Merrill. Merrill allowed her legs to be moved as Hawke lifted them to around her waist and let her own legs part, until finally, they met, flush against each other.

Merrill blushed as Marian winked at her.

"Just follow my lead, love. And of course--don't hesitate to stop me."

Merrill nodded, and soon her cheeks were flushing dark red as Marian looked into her eyes and held onto her neck gently. She leaned forward and kissed her--softly, yet so full of passion. How could she have ever doubted Hawke's love?

Then that's when it began. Hawke's hands moved from Merrill's neck to her shoulders, where she gripped as she closed her eyes and thrust forward and up into Merrill. The stain across her nose furrowed as she grit her teeth, gasping as she thrust, and Merrill found herself entranced by the way Marian's bangs jumped when she moved, and the muscles along her arms as she pulled herself up against Merrill.

But for all she was distracted by, Merrill was quick to reciprocate.

Letting out a long moan, Merrill leaned forward and buried her face in Hawke's neck, pushing back down against her thrusts, soon perfectly in sync.

"Fuck, Merrill," Marian groaned.

Merrill felt the same.

"Say it to me again," Merrill gasped, beginning to pick up their pace.

"Say . . . S-Say what now?" Marian managed to breathe out between labored breaths.

Merrill closed her eyes, her face positively scorched.

"Say you love me."

And so she did. Without question, Hawke began to mumble the words into Merrill's ear as they met each other over and over again.

Mumbling turned into speaking, and when Hawke collapsed against the bed using her arching back as a means of better access to her lover, it became shouting.

Marian propped herself up on her elbows, arms digging into the bed as she searched desperately for the right friction, the right means to claim Merrill as hers and hers alone. Merrill, in turn, was working diligently at riding Hawke, her own breasts bouncing at the effort--a feat Hawke definitely noticed.

"Merrill, I'm so close . . . I just, I need . . . Please . . ."

Merril was on it in a heartbeat. At first, she moved to use her fingers but--damn, why did she think it would be useful to have such nice, long, pretty nails? Mumbling something about "wait a second," Merrill moved across Hawke to take a look at her nightstand, Surely, something here would work.

Meanwhile, as Merrill fumbled about, Hawke had the pleasure of being smothered by Merrill's lithe frame. Indeed, she took the opportunity to wrap her mouth around the nub of her left breast. Merrill gasped and nearly dropped whatever it was she'd found, if not for Hawke's firm grip on her waist.

With more than a little reluctance, Marian eventually released her with a 'pop' and settled her eyes on those beautiful markings of hers.

Her eyes then drifted down, to where Merrill held a--wait. A hand stamp?

"Oh, Merrill."

"It'll work. Trust me, dear."

Hawke looked into Merrill's determined stare then back down at the polished wooden handle of the stamp.

". . . What the hell."

Hawke closed her eyes as Merrill moved to work her magic. Surprisingly, for good or for worse, the stamp served its purpose well, for within moments, both lovers came, exhausted and in pure bliss.

**Author's Note:**

> Wtf are endings anyway?


End file.
